


Oh What Fun, Another State Dinner

by Macaria_Czol



Series: Random Tales from Coria [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Butt Plugs, Butts, Dirty Thoughts, Fantasizing, Gay Male Character, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 05:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12292206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macaria_Czol/pseuds/Macaria_Czol
Summary: Lord Heni Mercer has to attend a state dinner, where in order to avoid passing out from the sheer dullness he fantasizes about the incredibly hot royal family sitting around him.





	Oh What Fun, Another State Dinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alasdair_you](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alasdair_you/gifts).



> I don't really know how to tag this. Though I must warn you to a hint of underage going on and there is a bit of prostitution. However, not really so that makes it a bit hard to classify. 
> 
> Also, not beta'd. So please forgive the typos.

There were rules in life, many of them created to control social interactions. Typically, Henri chose to ignore most social graces because honestly he was rich enough to do whatever the hell he wanted and not have to fear any backlash. But then state dinners came along and reminded him that he did have to mind his P's and Q's. Or rather, simply not pass out in a bowl of soup due to utter boredom. Gods, he loathed having to come to court, had done so ever since he was a young kid when his bland brown hair and eyes had earned him the nickname of Dormouse from his peers. It didn’t help that he was shy and seemed timid. 

Though, Henri suspected that being the younger son of a family that made their wealth through the slave trade during the reign of Fox I, the abolisher of slavery, probably also hadn’t helped. The House of Mercier had become persona non grata for a while, until his father had decided to take up farming. The cotton plantation developed almost overnight and the newly freed slaves became field workers. 

Still court was a painful place for him to be, and it had been torture right up until he turned 14. Puberty had the odd effect of making his life a bit easier. It was in a blaze of hormones and questionable interests that he found the perfect distraction from the ridicule and dullness of court. It had taken him awhile to acknowledge but it eventually he had gotten to the point where he just couldn’t deny that his head was never turned by the prospect of a romp with any of the multitude of maids that seemed to have a free moment when a young noble was around. 

Letting out a sigh and earning a sharp look from the old crone next to him, Henri let his gaze wander up the table to the young king. Fox II… The golden boy, he was beautiful. Though Henri had never found him tempting. Despite his golden hair and tall frame, the lord had always found his eye drawn to the royal bastard instead. 

Damn, Neil Novak had been a sight. Exotic, stunning and with an ass that Henri really just wanted to squeeze and possibly bite. Of course, fantasies about a 15-year-old kid who was thirty years younger than him always left him feeling like a bit of a creep. Usually though, he couldn’t find it in himself to care, because there was really nothing he wanted more to do than explore exactly how far down the little hellraiser’s marks actually went. A chance that he had almost had once and completely wasted.

And, yes, he was aware that leering at a young boy made him all forms of wrong as was fucking him, yet Henri liked to console himself with the knowledge that it was not his fault that he found Neil’s arse so tempting but rather the fault of genetics. The kid was after all the son of two of the best asses that he had spent most of his life staring at. In fact, Henri would happily blame Emory Bordelon for all of this. 

He’d been thirteen years old and in completely unaware of his fascination with rear ends until a visit to court had left him and his hormones dealing with the sight of gorgeous, older prince who couldn’t spare him a second glance. Still it had only taken two stolen glances at the green-eyed royal for Henri to lose himself. He spent the next three nights getting well acquainted with his right hand assisted by nothing but the idea of those eyes being on him for a change. Not that he ever stood a chance to have Emory Bordelon what with the incident and Nikita Novak. 

 

Slouching slightly in the stiff backed dining chair, Henri stole a glance at the Northerner that at times had been the bane of his existence. Like now for instance, he knew for a fact that Novak was a good two years older than him and yet his arse looked better than his did at 21. It was just so unfair, but then again, Henri never really thought that he could compete with someone as athletic and taunt as the small blond. Though, despite a bit of unfounded jealousy, he did enjoy the occasional glance at Lord Novak, especially when the King’s pregnancy turned all his late night fantasies on their head as far as positions and attitude went. 

What he wouldn’t give to spend a night in their bed. 

 

Forcing himself to look away before an Inquisitor caught him paying too much attention...again. There was a limit to how many times Henri could bear to deal with the all knowing gaze of Lord Brighton or one of his minions on him. Mainly because Sebastian left him a blushing fool. It was a waste to have someone as beautiful as the High Inquisitor being so undeniably straight. Not that he could ever really be tempted, Henri recognised the look in his eyes whenever he stared at the Queen. Love was a most fascinating thing, the fact that it was capable of making some people completely oblivious to all except their loved ones astounded him. 

He would never stop admiring beauty, even if he did swear his undying love to someone. There was a fine line between being faithful and dying of boredom, not that Henri knew exactly where that line was. He would be cold in his grave before giving up his favourite pasttime of admiring those around him.

Sitting up stiffly as the third course of scallop and lime salad was laid out in front of him, Henri found his attention being grabbed once more. His minor interest in the royals at the table peaking as out of the corner of his eye he watched Kyler Macy. 

The small scrap of a Lierian hardly ever really caught Henri’s interest. He loved men and Lian Glenning’s consort with his baby cheeks and delicate prettiness while lovely was decidedly not his type… most of the time at least. A tempting body would always draw him in no matter what. Though, he would happily bet his entire fortune on the blond’s arse being the best trained hole in the entire palace. Court gossip had it that Lian had put away all his whores in favour of his consort and had done so for good reason. Which Henri fully believed as forgot his good intentions of not staring and studied the amber-eyed creature up the table from him with renewed interest.

The gestures were subtle, with the constant awe-struck look in the boy’s large eyes it was almost impossible to see when they widened. However, Henri had always prided himself on noticing the finer details. 

Finer details like the red tips of the boy’s ears, the widening of his eyes and the hitched breath that accompanied a miniscule shift of his hips against his chair. Oh, Henri realised what he was witnessing with a blush of his own. Stealing a peek at the Infinito, the lord couldn’t stop the shudder that ran down his spine as he took in the heated, predatory look in Lian’s eyes as he stared at his tiny mate. 

Toys at the dinner table, what a delightful way to make state dinners bearable. Ignoring the tightening of his trousers, Henri looked at Kyler with new interest as the Lierian squirmed on his seat, shifting the plug that was undoubtedly inside him. He wished he could walk over there. Lean in and whisper sweet things in Kyler’s ear about how much he would love to replace the wood in his arse with something far more forgiving. Not that he would ever get such words out of his mouth without turning into a blushing mess. But, he even if wanted too, Lian Glenning would probably kill him instead of giving a heated glance with his captivating eyes before he even muttered a single word to his consort. The Lierian leader was a known hedonist, but Henri knew he was not someone that would ever be welcomed into the man’s bed. 

 

Looking down at his food, Henri ignored his hardening length and reminded himself that he had to behave. He didn’t stand a chance with anyone in the royal family. Awkward, old and easily flustered were the best words used when anyone decided to talk about the ‘Dormouse’. 

Julian would be a different story though. Without thinking a small smile bloomed as the lord found his thoughts drifting yet again. He was getting too old, he mused as he allowed his brain to be flooded by images of his lover. Well, lover was probably the incorrect word for Julian Blanchard. Whore would be a better term, but the idea of seeing Julian in that light made Henri sick to his stomach.

He had just gotten so tired of being alone. And he had been alone for a long time, ever since his fool of an older brother had decided to side with Lady Glenning when she had overthrown Fox I. The only reason he had survived and kept his lands was by aiding in bringing his brother in to face the King’s justice. A move that had left him hated by the few remaining members of his family for his apparent blood betrayal. 

But at least he had lived, though the King’s favour and tons of gold did not compensate for the gnawing emptiness that filled him as he wandered around the now empty family estate. He’d handled it for nearly two decades, finding his fantasies to be enough before he had finally broken. 

It had been 8 months ago during a routine inspection of his fields when he had seen him for the first time. Standing on a boat bathed in the scorching afternoon sun had been the most stunning man he had ever seen. Tall and lithe with golden skin and a riot of wild curls, Henri hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from the youth as he fished. He’d ended inspection early after that and run back to the manor, where he had retreated into the safety of his bedchamber and his fantasies. 

Not that his mind had proven to be a safe haven at all. After two weeks of being plagued by half formed visions of the golden boy, Henri finally had enough and sought to find out who the male really was. The information had been easy enough to find, like most people who lived on his lands, the boy came from a family of freed slaves. 

Julian Blanchard of Immaran and Corinth descent, aged only 20. The details had been almost painful to process. Young and beautiful, everything that should be untouchable for someone like him. Except...except he wasn’t. Henri hadn’t done anything for two months, had gone out of his way to ignore the fisherman who sailed up and down river. Whose stunning, vaguely recalled features haunted his dreams, until after waking up in a sticky mess for the fourth time in the space of three days had him summoning the youth to his manor. 

It had been the worst afternoon of his life, the very second he had seen Julian’s golden hazel eyes, Henri’s fantasies and needs had just consumed him and somewhere along the line he had found himself muttering out a deal. 10 pieces for an hour of the youth’s company. 

His cheeks had burned and his stomach twisted when he realised what he had said. That he had dared ask for the perfection before him to become a whore. However, when the fisherman agreed, Henri’s entire world had crashed down around him. He’d cried and Julian had held him the whole night. And again the next. 

He had a whore, paid for companionship and had to deal with the knowledge that he had dragged a creature as stunning as Julian down to his level, but Henri couldn’t bring himself to stop or really care. He needed Julian, a fact that the boy knew all too well. He could imagine him now, sprawled out on their bed, waiting for Henri to get back from court. Julian would give him such a hard time when he arrived, he knew exactly what effect the royal family had on him. But Henri would be fine, Julian would have him where he wanted him and his trousers would no longer be a problem like they currently were even if he did have to be tormented a bit first. 

Mimicking Kyler as he shifted in his seat blushing, Henri couldn’t stop himself from sighing as the feast continued to drag out around him. “Gods, just kill me now and end this boredom.” He muttered, getting a glare from the hag yet again. 

It was going to be a long night. With that cheerful thought, Henri tossed a glance up the table and back to the royal family.

Ah, Mack Glenning. Another arse that was completely wasted by the notion of faithfulness and commitment, but oh how he wanted to just give it at least one squeeze….


End file.
